RT Houston: Another Day, Another Chicken. Or why talking about suspense isn’t

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Yesterday afternoon panels went well, as panels go. I wonder why authors are sometimes so ill-suited to talk about their own work, much less their genres. I heard folks yesterday, whom I know can carry on a great one-on-one conversation, sound as if they were confused about the books in front of them. A discussion about what separates a romantic thriller from romantic suspense was so succinct I felt as if I’d missed something. I also found it surprising that folks who are friendly away from the table can deliver some the most startling cutting comments about fellow panelists.

Yet I wouldn’t have missed any of it. All-in-all, however, I went to three fabulous sessions on suspense/thrillers/mystery structures, and the panel I was on (about balancing cross-genre elements) gave me plenty of time to toot my own horn, since two of our panelists didn’t show. I liked getting to talk more, but I do wish we’d had more perspectives to share with the readers and writers in the room. I skipped the parties last night and opted for room service and work.

I do wish I had gone to one of the mixers, which was sponsored by Harlequin. While the inspriational market is not greatly represented here, H is a major sponsor, and I always enjoy meeting writers from other lines. This morning, they held a series romance panel, which was lightly attended, but I learned a lot from the readers and librarians in the room.

This afternoon, I’m going to a session with a former CSI, then there’s a huge agent/editors panel.

Sometime, I’ll have to take a closer look at why I avoid the male models wandering around the convention as well, a fact that one of my friends finds most amusing. While some of the ladies ooh and ahh over them, I find myself sidling toward the door. Sounds kinda like the set-up for a romantic comedy, doesn’t it.

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